


Sharing Heat

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [83]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Future Fic, Huddling For Warmth, Implied Sexual Content, Power Outage, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9083479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: When Beacon Hills is hit with a power outage two days before Christmas, Allison and Malia find a way to keep warm.[written for the prompt "Allison/Malia + Maybe I want to kiss you because it's cold and about to be cuddle season."]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkAliceLilith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAliceLilith/gifts).



> This is a liberal interpretation of the prompt I was given.

Beacon Hills may only get snow once in a blue moon, but that doesn't mean the December weather isn't brutal. 

It's two days before Christmas, and rain has been plummeting from the sky since noon, turning the streets into treacherous stretches of slick black tarmac. Wind roars through the trees, causing sticks and dirt and unsecured decorations to go flying through the air. When Allison looks out the window while wrapping Malia's presents, someone's inflatable Santa, now collapsed and riddled with holes, goes whipping by, snagging on the tree in the yard only briefly before it continues on its journey. 

It's not exactly Christmas weather, but she's sure that by the time Christmas actually comes around, the storm will be long gone, off to plague some other part of the country, maybe even turn into snow. 

The thought has barely crossed her mind when the electricity flickers once, twice, and then dies, plummeting the house into silence only broken by the wind and rain lashing at the windows. 

"Allison?" Malia's voice drifts down the stairs from their bedroom, where she's been working on wrapping Allison's presents (and cursing quite often). "Did you do that?" 

"No, the storm did that," Allison yells back, setting her scissors aside. Without the lights, the living room is lit by nothing but gray dimness coming through the windows. It's definitely too dark to wrap presents in, so she tucks what she's managed to wrap under the small tree perched in the corner of the living room and slides the rest of Malia's gifts under the couch. They have a whole drawer full of candles in the kitchen, and she's just started picking some out when she hears Malia's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. 

"I was almost done with your presents," she grumbles. "How long is the storm supposed to last?" 

"Not sure," Allison shrugs, fishing out a lighter and some matches. "You can check the weather on my phone if you want." Her phone is on the kitchen table, plugged into its now useless charger, and Malia hops onto the counter after she's grabbed it, automatically typing in Allison's password. It's easy to tell when she's opened the weather app; her face falls and she groans loudly. 

"It's supposed to rain all night," she says, tossing Allison's phone aside. If it weren't for the heavy-duty (and expensive) case she's had on it since they moved in together, Allison would wince. "Who knows how long it'll take them to get the power back on." 

"Well, good thing we have lots of candles," Allison says, bumping the candle drawer shut with her hip. Her arms are laden with them, and the mixed scents are more than a little overwhelming. "At least we can finish up wrapping." 

"We can do that tomorrow," Malia says, taking a handful of candles from Allison's arms and heading towards the stairs. "I've got a better idea." 

There's no sign of Allison's presents in the bedroom, wrapped or otherwise, although torn sprigs of wrapping paper and tape litter the carpet. Malia immediately sets to work with the candles, setting them up on top of their dressers and shoving anything flammable to the side or to the floor. Allison trails after her with the lighter and, by the time they finish, the room is practically glowing, illuminated by a dozen small, flickering flames. The wind is still howling outside, and Allison can hear the rain pounding on the roof, but with the candles going and the curtains pulled shut, the storm feels distant, like it's playing on a television in the next room. 

Malia disappears back downstairs, and the sound of cupboards opening and slamming shut drifts up the stairs. Allison answers a few texts from Scott and Stiles (who also have no power) and fishes a pair of socks out of her drawer. It's only been half an hour since the power cut out, but the temperature is already starting to drop. 

Thankfully, werecoyotes burn hot, and Allison is not above stealing Malia's body heat to keep herself warm. 

When Malia comes back up the stairs, Allison is in bed underneath three blankets, all of which are pulled up to her waist. Malia is just barely visible behind a literal pile of snacks ; granola bars, crackers, bags of chips, a six-pack of Gatorade. She drops the whole pile on the floor and yanks back the covers, sliding in beside Allison. 

"Now there's no reason for us to leave until the power comes back on," she says, sliding over until she's pressed against Allison from shoulder to hip. Allison smiles contently and slides her arm around Malia's back, until her hand is curled around her waist. Her holidays from work started two days ago, but they haven't been able to spend as much time together as she'd hoped, what with last-minute Christmas shopping, arranging to see the rest of the pack, and doing all of the other errands that have been neglected over the last month. 

This storm might just be a blessing in disguise. Winter _is_ cuddling season, after all. 

"We could be here awhile," she says thoughtfully, brushing her thumb over smooth, warm skin where Malia's shirt has ridden up.

"Could be a few hours," Malia says, continuing Allison's train of thought. She twists until she's resting on her hip, leg draped over Allison's. "Could be cold. And boring." 

"I know a few ways we can make it not boring _and_ warm," Allison replies with a grin that she can't hold back. Malia mirrors her, but her smile is sharper, more of a smirk than a grin. 

"So do I," she murmurs and, with that, she throws her leg over Allison's lap and swoops in for her mouth, bringing the blankets with her until they're draped over their heads. 

&.

The next time Allison pokes her head above the covers, it's significantly colder, and the power is still off. Some of their candles are guttering low, flickering unsteadily. 

"I was really hoping it'd be back on by now," she sighs, taking a bottle of Gatorade that Malia passes to her. 

"Me too." Malia's bare shoulders are dappled with sweat, but she shivers and pulls the blankets up to her neck once she's downed half of her own bottle of Gatorade. "I guess we'll just have to stay under here a little longer." Her fingers gently brush along the outside of Allison's thigh and Allison jumps slightly at the unexpected touch. 

"You're right," she says, dropping her bottle over the edge of the bed and diving back under the covers. "We've still got time to make up for." 

&.

When the power finally comes back on, only one of the candles is still going, and it's the middle of the night. 

Allison is half dozing, and the sudden burst of light makes her groan and clap a hand to her eyes. Malia jumps like she's been prodded with a stick; Allison can only imagine what it's like to hear every electrical device in the house (the fridge, the microwave, the television in the living room, each individual light) spring back to life at once. 

" _Finally_ ," Malia says, popping her head out from under the blankets. "I need a shower." 

"Me too," Allison mumbles through a wide yawn. She definitely needs to clean herself up, but it's still very cold in their bedroom, and she's sure it'll take some time for the heat to really kick back on. "But later. When it's warm." 

"Okay." Malia slides out of the blankets only long enough to dart across the room to turn off the overhead light. Their sole remaining candle flickers weakly on the dresser across the room, shadow swaying back and forth against the wall. Malia presses herself against Allison's back and buries her face in Allison's definitely mussed up hair. 

"Don't let me fall asleep," Allison says.

"I won't." 

(She does.

Allison doesn't mind.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
